Mum's the Word
by Landlady of the Universe
Summary: This is. Not. What I had in mind. Miroku


Takahashi-sensei owns me too.

Mum's the Word

Chapter 1

It came suddenly, this revelation.  He was going to die.  And not suddenly, quickly, by being sucked into his wind tunnel.  Slowly.  Painfully.  And soon.

He was in trouble.  How odd that the same thought had crossed his mind many a time before, and yet it had never occurred to him how close to Death he had come before.  Perhaps this was the final step to his inevitable doom.  Admittance.  If not acceptance.

_How much more can you take?_  The voice threaded through his ear, caressing the curves of his brain with the poison it contained.  _Does it hurt?_

_Do you want to **scream**?_

Miroku bit his lip.  Because he could not – would not – succumb to the voice in his mind that was taunting him.  He was dizzy with pain; every nerve in his body felt like it had been ripped out and was currently being stomped on.

The tendrils holding him twisted and he could **hear** his bones creaking before they gave way to the pressure and snapped.  His teeth sliced through his lower lip, drawing blood.  It trickled down his chin in a steady stream, landing on his bare chest with a plop.  Not that anyone would have noticed; he was covered in blood.  It dried on his skin and flaked off when he moved.  

Tears dripped from the corners of his eyes, running through the blood on his cheeks and turning red before they fell to the forest floor.  _What's wrong little monk?_ came that voice, poison flooding through his brain.  _Scream little monk, and I'll make it go away._

No!  He wouldn't listen.  He would not give in.

But it hurt…

A strangled whimper escaped his lips, despite his best effort to hold it in.  Dignity, dignity.  He had to retain his dignity if he was going to die.  At this point, it was all he had left.

For the first time since he'd done so, Miroku began to regret leaving the others.  He had been scared.  The frequent abuse of his wind tunnel had caused it to grow at an alarming pace.  So he'd run, to protect Inu-Yasha and Shippou.  Kagome… and Sango as well, of course.  A sudden desire to do his duty and bear a child had gripped him, taking advantage of the fear in his heart.  It was something he would have never achieved in his current company. 

_Are you even listening monk!?_

A sudden, angry pain shot down his nerves.  The pain cleared his head, and he tried to shot back a customary witticism.  But his vocal chords didn't work anymore, which was probably just as well.

And Miroku gave up.  It was over.  He would be dead in a few moments, no matter what he did.  He'd lost too much blood for it to turn out any thing different.

Why?  The sudden self-query startled him.  But it made sense.  It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He wasn't supposed to die like this.

He was pissed.  If he'd warned that demon once to stay off his lands, he'd warned him a thousand times.  And yet the creature seemed to be particularly fond, of **his** people as prey.  A growl ripped from his throat as he strode forward, determined to take care of this problem once and for all.

It was a pity that the victim was already dead.  Though, probably a bit of a mercy as well.  Odd though, that the demon still seemed to be toying with his prey, when the smell of death rolling off of the man could be sensed meters away.

No matter.  The fool would be dead as well in a moment.

Sesshoumaru didn't toy around.

He bent over the victim once the demon had been killed, pulling away the tentacles that stuck to the man's body, melting them away with a fervor that surprised him.  It was odd, but the scene sickened him for some reason.  He had seen many such sights before, and even caused a few himself, and yet…

Sesshoumaru did not approve of torture without reason.  This toying with one's pray had always disgusted him, but he had never truly been bothered like this before.  Why now?

Wait a moment.  The man had twitched. Ever so slightly, but not beyond the notice of his enhanced eyesight.  So he was still alive after all, but close enough that he reeked of death.  How odd.

Brushing hair matted with blood out of the man's face with a claw, Sesshoumaru's eyes widened.  It was the monk.  Inu-Yasha's companion with the hole in his hand.  What he was doing in the Western Lands was a mystery to the demon lord.  He particularly wished to know why Inu-Yasha hadn't been around to help.  Though the question of how the monk had managed to survive everything that had been done to him was even more pressing.  It was amazing, the strength of this mere human.  The demon who had attacked him was known for using psychological torture especially, and from the sheer amount of physical damage done, it appeared that the monk had resisted very well.

The sword at his hip began to purr.  Loudly.  Curious, Sesshoumaru pulled it from its sheath and allowed the blade to guide his hand.  It wasn't like he could have denied its wishes for very long anyway.  Unlike Toujikin, which was easy to control in comparison, Sesshoumaru had never been able to get Tenseiga to do anything he wanted.

He watched, fascinated, as the sword flashed, repairing broken bones, healing cuts and bruises.  Soon enough, the monk's dark eyes fluttered open, confusion immediately flashing across his expression.

Sesshoumaru rose, sheathing his sword, and looked down upon the monk, a firm mask in place to hide any amazement that might try and slip out.  Why had Tenseiga wanted him to heal this creature?  And why, he wondered as he saw some cuts left unhealed, had the sword only fixed the life-threatening wounds?

The monk was struggling to stand.  Needless to say, he was more than a little weak, and only Sesshoumaru's quick reflexes kept him from toppling over again.  He glared up at the demon, who ignored the look and scooped him up, carrying him away from the place.  If Tenseiga was so determined to keep the human alive, then he might as well make sure that he stayed that way.  After all, Sesshoumaru had learned the hard way that it was not a good idea to ignore Tenseiga.

The monk opened his mouth to say something, then frowned suddenly.  Sesshoumaru watched without appearing to, while his hand went to his bruised throat, a horrified expression on his face.  The demon understood instantly.

The monk was mute.  Tenseiga had not restored his voice.

*sigh* I am demented.  It's official.  I have no idea where this came from.  It was just like one day one of the muses popped up and was like, "Let's torture Miroku."  And then later on the other one was like, "And let's have Sesshoumaru save him.  Because it won't be any fun killing him after he's all ready accepted his death."  So, tada.

Flame me.  Beat on my muses.  But do keep in mind that this is **not** a Miroku/Sesshou romance because, umm, I really don't feel like writing one and even if I did and could somehow imagine them as, you know, gay, they really don't belong together cause I don't think they would get along.  Which should make this very interesting.


End file.
